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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374616">The Triassic Tribute</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chinah/pseuds/Chinah'>Chinah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies), Jurassic Park Series - Michael Crichton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dinosaur facts, Gay Character, Jurassic But Better, Jurassic Park References, Jurassic park if a millionaire saw the movies and said "ill do that except better this time", M/M, Male Protagonist, Pissy protagonist, Small angry x big soft, Trans Female Character, had nowhere else to put it, oc pairing, personal project, scientifically accurate, this was originally a contract story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:20:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,453</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chinah/pseuds/Chinah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the jurassic park movies exist, and inspire a certain multimillionaire Aunt to start her own version of the park; all in tribute to the original movies she loves with all her heart.<br/>After all, they already showed off all the problems her park will ever have to face, right? Fix those, and everything will run so much smoother...</p><p>Right?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Character Pairing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Triassic Tribute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyBob/gifts">BunnyBob</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This, kinda fucking sucks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castien keeps repeating it in his head, like some sort of shitty mantra. God he wishes he could've just taken one of the THREE private jets his ridiculously wealthy family owned instead of </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> shitmobile.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The transportation in question stuttered along through the air like a fly with a broken wing, shaking up everything inside as if it were a  shitty blender with dull blades instead of the sorriest excuse for a plane in existence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a tiny, stuffy, no-air-conditioner biplane, made exclusively for water landings. It had barely enough room in the back for all of Castien's OWN belongings, let alone all of his guest's luggage too. He'd been daydreaming about white sandy beaches, lawnchairs at sunset and pools in the evenings for the last fourteen hours of this stupid journey. If only his dear sweet aunt hadn't begged him to let her pay for everything, he could've been halfway through a fake mimosa and watching cable tv on his own plane right this very second…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If the journey there was foreshadowing at all, Castien’s hopes for a nice weekend in the lap of luxury (at least one different from home) were slowly falling flat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He feels bad for bringing along Silgan, too. If he’d known the ride there would’ve been THIS bad, he would’ve just spent the money and invited his childhood friend to a vacation planned and paid for by him.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>His aunt… well, she was special, to say the least. She’d spent the last six years creating… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. All Castien knew was that she was SO excited about whatever it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His parents didn’t know he was on the way to the island she’d kept top secret for years. Actually, they didnt even know he still talked to his Aunt Lynn at all - not after she was ostracized from the family a decade ago, anyways.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes feel like they’re sliding out of focus the more he stares at the clouds out of his window, but there’s honestly not much else to do. He and his guest, Silgan Kolstad, had already done pretty much anything you </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> do on the plane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And although Castien could listen to Silgan speak for hours, about literally anything(<em>h</em></span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>family’s own million-dollar enterprise, how worried he was about his aquariums at home, how he was so worried his skin would burn before it tanned), fourteen hours of conversation could only stay so interesting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was high time for a nap, and Silgan had admittedly beaten him to the punchline.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Even if Silgan snoring was louder than the plane’s engine destroying itself, Castien can’t help but watch that peaceful, sleeping face of his as Silgan attempted to scrunch himself up into the small plane seat. Oof, that couldn’t be comfortable…</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Castien wished he could’ve given his cherished best friend something </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>. After all, Silgan was used to better, being from a wealthy family and all - his father had several businesses set up in Norway before moving to America to be with his mother, who just so happened to be the next-door neighbor to Castien’s own parents. They were around the same age and the only kids in their families, both stuck in high-society due to their parents, the neighborhood, and the businesses in question; maybe it was just meant to be that they’d find each other as friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And boy, did Castien need a supportive force like Silgan in his life, and he liked to think that Silgan needed him as well. Getting through such high expectations as the sole heir of their respective companies AND family names would’ve destroyed them otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was pretty much the worst place in the world for a closeted teen too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And maybe, MAYBE Castien had shot himself in the foot last summer when he finally realized that he had a heart-wrenching, gut-twisting, mind fogging crush ON said childhood friend. </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And only last summer did Castien realize that he had a heart-wrenching, gut-twisting, mind fogging crush on Silgan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just, LOOK at him! The one loudly snoring away in the tiny seat beside Castien was, nothing less than one of the most handsome people in the world (in Castien’s eyes, at least). Wide shoulders, strong jawline, soft nose paired with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache combo… Not to mention the oval shape of his soft green eyes (much prettier than his own sharp blue ones, in Castien’s opinion,</span>
  <em>
    <span> again</span>
  </em>
  <span>), the way his light brown hair looked constantly messy yet still styled… Sometimes, a lock of hair would even fall down over his eye and make Castien swoon on the spot. Don’t look at him with that Superman hairstyle, he’ll melt, he will!!!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>even</span>
  </em>
  <span> to mention how BUILT Silgan is. Castien’s… relatively skinny, with a pinched waist, </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay </span>
  </em>
  <span> hips, skinny thighs, flat chest, no muscle to speak of…</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Silgan though, was built like a goddamn lumberjack. He didn’t have a bodybuilder’s definition, Castien knew this from various outings to the pools together, but Silgan could easily pick him up and throw him several feet if he so wished…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, Castien wants to know what it’s like to be held down by those arms…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaking the intrusive thoughts out of his head AGAIN, Castien groans and presses his face to the shuddering window beside him. It was nearly two in the afternoon, how much longer could this flight be???</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he has to listen to even one more </span>
  <em>
    <span>minute</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the wind beating against this dinky little sad excuse for a plane, he was going to go insane…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Be careful what you wish for, as they say - A sudden drop in altitude suddenly splashes him with cold water of realization though, his fingernails digging into the ripped leather seat beneath him. The plane had nearly convulsed in the air, and lost quite a bit of height. The pilot didn’t even blink, seemingly unphased, but Castien was already on the edge of a panic attack.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Oh god, if he died here, his parents would follow him to the afterlife just to beat the hell out of him…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“E-Excuse me, sir! Is the plane okay?!” Castien tries to yell to the front seat, straining against his buckles in order to lean as far forward as he can. Due to the continued snoring and the wind howling against the glass, his voice is lost in the frenzy of sounds it seems, no one even twitching in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After waiting a moment, annoyance and panic claws at his center, forcing his hands to start fiddling clumsily with his buckle- he’d walk his ass right up there if he had to! But another violent drop in the plane’s altitude has him gluing himself against the back of the seat instead, tears threatening to sneak out of his eyes. He can see the ocean through the clouds now, they’re nearing the ocean, oh god there was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to say-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of his hands flies over to jab Silgan awake, just for some sort of companionship during, you know, the whole oncoming death thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wake up, wake up wakeup</span>
  <em>
    <span>wakeup</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” He hisses, his chest already heaving in an attempt to keep the hyperventilating in check. Silgan mumbles something under his breath as his eyes begin to flutter open, but another quick drop has him sitting up instantly, Castien’s fear mirrored in his own.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Oh god he knew it too and Castien didn’t even have to SAY anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were definitely going to die.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least it’d be together, right?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The plane pitches downwards at too steep an angle and quickly they’re <em>plummeting,</em> Castien’s scream stuck in his throat and Silgan’s inhaler lost in the pile of bags behind them. Castien can feel his life flashing before his eyes, the thought of sharks snacking on his corpse in approximately four minutes sending shudders up his spine. Silgan grabs his hand and squeezes like he’s holding on for dear life. Castien’s honestly going to pass out from the sheer anxiety of it all, but then the plane suddenly tilts again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Its nose points upwards instead of straight down, and a few extra panels open up on the wings, bringing it to a slow descent now, until the pontoons on the bottom of the aircraft make contact with water gently, and they slide along the top of the water peacefully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castien feels like he’s going to vomit as he lets go of the other’s hand and helps Silgan dig through his carry-on for his inhaler, each of them breathing a sigh of relief after a minute of heavy gasping. Oh, he has such a headache… whoever thought making planes </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> small was a good idea better have a good reason because he would like to personally kick the snot out of them.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Are you okay…?” He asks Silgan now, watching the other carefully. Despite being like six feet tall and built like an ox, Silgan… still had a lot of breathing issues. Part of it was genetic, part of it was size, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of it was unfortunate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“H-Hah, yeah I- I think I’m okay. Are you?” He asks, his usually deep voice squeaky for a second, still taking deeper and deeper breaths just to calm himself down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” Castien responds quietly. Despite the fact that they almost died, his mind is more preoccupied thinking about how their hands had stuck together before he blinks and turns his attention to the pilot, who was still peacefully steering the plane.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>He nearly unbuckles his seatbelt and leans forward into the front seat just to screech at this douchebag, but pauses as their destination looms out of a fog bank.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a lot more… mountain-y than he had expected. Half the island had that pristine white beach that Castien had been dying for, but from what he could see from the little biplane stuttering up to a long dock, there was nothing ON the beach. No lawnchairs, no umbrellas, no sign of.. Well, civilization.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like.. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At all</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pilot finally turns off the plane and hangs on one of the pontoons outside his door, looping a rope around part of the dock and effectively tying the plane in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Castien’s too busy trying to still his racing heart to notice the fact their luggage is pulled out of the plane with haste, or maybe it’s also because he’s just used to it at this point. Silgan, on the other hand, warily watches the workers dressed in all white manhandle their luggage, the lack of sleep still etched into his features despite having passed out for most of the flight. Castien hopes to god that his aunt just lets them SLEEP this first day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once their luggage is piled upon the dock, then slowly lifted onto the backs of workers and carried towards two jeeps waiting by the dock’s end, Castien *finally* pulls himself from the plane. His legs feel like jello, his head feels like air, he might be sick just from how</span>
  <em>
    <span> exhausted</span>
  </em>
  <span> he is. Silgan seems to echo his feelings, because as soon as the other follows him out of the plane, Castien has to hurry and keep him from tripping.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Hey, wake up big guy, we gotta at least make it to the room before we get to nap.” Castien chuckles under his breath, patting a hand against the back of Silgan’s shoulder before turning towards the jeeps.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, were these the rides to the fancy resort? Even though they look caked in dirt and decorated with weird feather patterns? Admittedly, not the most professional choice, but whatever, Castien was too tired to continue judging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the hustle and bustle of loading their respective suitcases and bags, Castien almost misses the figure careening through the constant flow of workers- who all move around her casually, as though they’re worker ants avoiding a drop of water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or, perhaps more accurately, their</span>
  <em>
    <span> queen</span>
  </em>
  <span> ant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aunt Lynn comes crashing into Castien like some sort of tidal wave; Castien admittedly got the short genes from his mother, considering even his aunt TOWERS above him. When she wraps her arms around him it feels like all the air is squeezed out of his lungs, but honestly, he’d rather have a hug instead of a note that states “dinner is at 6, see you there” like he would’ve received from his parents.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Lynn!!” He croaks, his own arms wrapping around her shoulders and squeezing. God, even if it’s been forever, she looks just like he remembers/God, it really HAS been forever since he had last seen her, she looks so much different now/etc.;her hair is long and bronze colored, tied up behind her head in a tall ponytail, and her eyes are big and bright blue. She’s soft, warm, smells oddly like mulch, and VERY muscular- has she been doing a lot of weight lifting out here?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“God- you’re so much stronger than I remember,” Castien laughs as he’s set back on his feet, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck while the other rubs at his ribs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lynn laughs, her smile bright and warm as she slaps her hands on the hips of her casual messy blue cardigan and khaki outfit. She turns in a circle, showing off, before lifting an arm and flexing.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“We do a lot of building out here, I can’t force the workers to do *everything* on their own, my dear Castien - then I’d be just like your dear old father!!” She snorts, turning on her heel and brandishing a hand towards the vehicles. Her cardigan flares out in a circle as she does, the very end of it grazing Castien’s shoulder before she leads the way down the pier.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Come on then, I have so much to show you! Tell me about your friend on the way there, I’d love to hear more about my dear little Castien’s social life!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dear little Castien in particular laughs under his breath, waving for Silgan to follow him as he makes his way down the old wood of the dock. At least the fresh air and the smell of the ocean is *pleasant* here; otherwise, it would feel like any other vacation. “Come on then, let’s go introduce you to my aunt, I guess.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Is she </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> this fast-paced?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“If I’m honest, I haven’t talked to her face to face in like six years so I had no idea what to expect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hurrying to catch up, Castien ushers Silgan beside him, keeping up a little ways behind her fast pace.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“T-This is Silgan! He’s.. a friend from school, I figured he could use a break from the states for a little while.” Castien laughs under his breath, watching his gladiator sandals carefully to make sure they don’t hit any uneven wooden boards and send him flying.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh? Well Silgan, it’s a pleasure! I’m so glad to have you two as my official first guests, I’ve spared no expense, really~” She winks, looking far too proud of herself as her boots hit the gravel path by the jeeps, and she motions towards the doorless backseat of the jeep that *isn’t* jam packed with their luggage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hop in, I’ll explain on the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The buckles are hard to figure out, especially considering Castien’s are nearly too little for him, and Silgan’s chest can’t seem to fit in his. Eventually though, they figure it out with Aunt Lynn’s help.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Here, like this- no, you make it smaller like *this* Castien- okay, okay is this good?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Are we all strapped in? Marvelous!! Come on, Soleil, bring us home~” She cheers, clicking her harness into place in one quick and easy movement, then patting a hand on the driver’s shoulder. Said driver nods with a delighted smile and kicks the vehicle into gear, making a hand sign out the window at the jeep behind them before moving onwards.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The drawl of the engine is a hideously unnatural sound that bounces off of EVERYTHING as they drive down the heavily wooded dirt road back to wherever Lynn must’ve come from.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>It seems to have rained recently or at least was pretty damn humid earlier in the day because the smell of wet plants and early morning weather was </span>
  <em>
    <span>everywhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s quiet in the car as wind bellows down the valley and into the roofless and doorless jeep, whipping Castien’s hair around and definitely knotting it up. If it were *his* choice, he’d be riding in a Cadillac. With some champagne for his troubles… *Anything* to shake the memories of that stupid little plane out of his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vines hang out into the road, giant rainforest-esque trees tower overhead, everything about this island seems… odd. Even regular grass was hard to find on the sides of the road since most of the ground was either patted down for the gravel pathing or covered by heavy ferns and foliage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castien can’t help but glance at Silgan to see how he feels about it, his lips parting to ask a cocky question, yet they shut immediately once he notices the childlike wonder on his friend’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those soft eyes were wide as they took in the scenery, an unknowing grin plastered across his face…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Castien’s heart misses a beat, and he has to look away hurriedly to hide his flustered expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How dare Silgan be so charming without even</span>
  <em>
    <span> knowing</span>
  </em>
  <span> he looks so good?</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“So… Aunt Lynn... Why did you decide to drop everything and start a resort all the way out here?” Castien asks over the wind, hoping to get his OWN mind on something else. “It’s kinda out of the way. Florida would’ve been closer, or even, Jamaica? Cuba? You could’ve even slapped something down on the coast of California and I would’ve believed it a little more than some.. Random uninhabited island off the coast of Central America…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a moment of nothing but the sound of the wind, before Lynn turns ever so slightly in her seat in order to look back at Castien, her eyes dancing with glee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you remember that dinosaur movie, the one that came out a decade or two ago? Big disaster, lots of dinosaurs, blah blah old science, blah blah... Either way, for shits n giggles I decided to study the movies… and then, hired myself a team of scientists to see if the methods in the movie could be used as an actual basis for bringing back prehistoric life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Castien can’t help but feel a sour lump form in the back of his throat. The pleased blissed-out expression seems to have wiped off Silgan’s face too; he must’ve overheard. From what Castien could recall… none of those movies ended *well.* Every single one ended up in disaster and bloodshed, didn’t it…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh-” He adds to the conversation though, hoping for more information before he starts panicking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well… Oh Castien, it works like a CHARM! We started with the Tasmanian Tiger; I’ve got two living at my personal quarters, the first breeding pair in almost a *century!* The last living specimen went extinct in September of 1936, and thanks to a few hairs, blood, and claw specimens kept offhand in underground facilities, we recreated the DNA strand!! Remarkable work, truly! A section of my team is currently trying to clone the last Quagga, specifically because I love zebras, and the world could always use more-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Lynn!!! <em>Pardon my tone,</em> but you cannot be HONESTLY telling me, you’re screwing around with genetics now? Not even just that, <em>ancient</em> genetics? Are you trying to tell me you have fucking DINOSAURS on this island?” Castien finally hisses, unable to keep himself from nearly jumping out of his seat and clawing forward enough for his aunt to hear him over a particularly loud gust. And he definitely would’ve thrown a bitchfit up there,  if there wasn’t a harness strapping him to the cushion behind him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her eyes are wide and surprised for a minute before she laughs and scratches at the back of her neck. “You didn’t let me get to the good part… you’ll have to rethink your ideas of dinosaurs first, Castien my boy. The mainstream media talks these creatures up to be cold-blooded killing machines; but actually, they’re much smarter than you think. I’ll explain more when we get back to the main hotel in the park~” She grins, unaffected by the nauseous expression on Castien’s face, before she turns her head back towards the path.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Silgan laughs under his breath, leaning down to Castien’s level in order to whisper to the other the best he can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha, uh, Cas… She’s kidding, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think she is.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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